Sixteen Ain't So Sweet
by BandBelong
Summary: Brennan's sixteenth birthday isn't as sweet as she wished it would be...but then again, nothing ever is for her. At least she finds someone to rescue her...guess who? A quick oneshot, its one of my favorites I've written though...ENJOY


July 1, 1992.

It was just another summer day.

Another summer day, where the heat was so overbearing, that she was forced to spend the day inside of her cramped room, her possessions pushed into the corner without even a second notice, while she laid on the bed she had been given, thinking.

She had done a lot of that lately. Since last year it was all she had left. But she wasn't supposed to think today. Someone else was supposed to do it for her. It was supposed to be her day.

Letting herself get disappointed wasn't an option anymore. Nothing was going to change. But she wanted, just for today, for something to change. For someone to care.

Nobody did anymore.

It was her 16th birthday and it had just passed by without even a second glance.

She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry, but as she lay on her stomach on the ratty quilt in the attic bedroom that she had to endure in the new foster home, it felt pretty damned hard not to.

She had promised herself that she wouldn't think of them anymore. The parents who had abandoned her, but right now, all she wished was that they were back.

Trying to push them out of her head, she examined the chipped black polish on her finger nails, reaching for the box of cigarettes that were strewn messily across the bed and the black lacquered lighter next to the ash tray.

Lighting one of the cigarettes carefully, the watched as it burned before putting it in the ash tray, the pungent fumes and smoke quickly filling the room. She would never smoke. That was like intentional suicide, but she knew that within hours the ugly smell of smoke would fill the house she so greatly despised.

She got up, and left the ashtray outside of her door where it would successfully smoke up the house without filling her room with smoky haze, and then grabbed a black pen, scribbling on her hand to remember to put it out. She might be angry, but she wasn't an arsonist.

Catching sight of herself in the cracked mirror that hung next to her bed, she shook her head, touching the dark purple bruise that was just now fading for her face.

They deserved their house to smell like smoke. He had hit her for coming in late, whipping her head back as the hot tears streamed from her eyes, and she hadn't even tried to stop him. Brennan had watched as his wife cowered in the corner as he continuously beat his fist into her face, afraid that he would corner her next.

Fear was a terrible thing. She hated it, that's why the day her parents left, she had decided she wouldn't ever be scared again.

The dark blue eyes that had once been clear and glassy, were now staring back at her, thickly rimmed with black eyeliner, cloudy, bloodshot, and lifeless. Her hair hung limply around her face, its usual wave absent because of the deafening heat. The deep chestnut shade it had once been, the color her mother had said was like the end of a sunset, was now a dark shade of black, and cut in choppy layers.

She hadn't been able to keep anything that reminded her of them, and her hair was like anything, a reminder of what had been and what she had lost. She had dyed it the day they left, tears mixing with the dye, not that she cared to admit it.

Blinking back tears from the memories, she opened her eyes again, and shut them instantly hating the way her cheek bones were so much more pronounced, and her collar bones stuck out even more from the black v-neck she was wearing. Brennan had always been naturally thin, but after they had gone, the pounds had dropped rapidly, as much as she tried to keep them on. She felt around her rips, and immediately dropped her fingers as she could feel the grooves of her ribs easily where there was no body fat left.

She didn't look like herself, but then again, that had sort of been the point. To escape, to disguise herself and all of the terrible things she was feeling.

Not able to look at the mirror anymore, she sat down on the bed with a defeated sigh, looking down at the beat up Timex on her wrist. 9:15. Where was he? He was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago.

_Maybe he left too._

She hated herself for thinking that. It had become a reflex really. Her parents. Her brother. Kale, the boyfriend who had deserted her the second he heard about her parents. No one wanted to be near the "scary foster child", the one with the "problems". People whispered when she walked by, and snickered when they thought she was out of earshot.

That's how she had ended up here. Upstate New York. Close to the border of Pennsylvania, in a town that she knew no one; in a house she wished she could escape from every extra second she spent there.

It had been the only family that would even think of taking her, and with her reputation, she could see why. The 5th foster family in 7 months. It had to be some kind of record. She lifted the bottom of the black Converse she was wearing, reading the names with a mix of regret and anger.

_Thomson_

_Hayden_

_Carmichael_

_London_

_Follett_

The names stared back at her, taunting her. She was just about to let the tears finish her off, when she heard the faint scratching at her window. Her face instantly brightened. He hadn't forgotten.

Instinctually, she checked her reflection in the mirror quickly, before opening the dusty window of the attic with some difficulty. Swinging her feet over the ledge, she smiled down at the tall boy who was grinning at her broadly from the Follett's perfectly manicured lawn.

She waved, and he whispered hoarsely up to her. "Hurry up Babe; I don't want them to wake up!"

Brennan had done this many times. In her 2 month long stay with the Follett's she had learned that her curfew was 8 o'clock, far too early in her opinion. Following the steep ledge of the roof, she swung herself down lightly onto the trellis, and stepped carefully to make sure it didn't teeter. Not that she was going to break it. She knew she was far too light for that.

Bracing herself, she jumped lightly onto the grass, falling into his arms with a mix of relief and natural clumsiness.

She smiled up at him, trying to hide that she had been crying minutes before. He grinned the half smile that drove her crazy, and pulled her close to him, crashing his lips into hers. She kissed him back, letting their tongues mix together. She found herself craving physical contact. Nathan was the only one who would touch her anymore.

He leaned back, and as he smiled at her, she licked her lips. She thought she could taste alcohol, but she decided to think nothing of it. Nathan drank sometimes. It was ok.

"Happy birthday Babe."

Brennan blushed, but smiled back. "Thanks Nathan."

He nodded, and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Ready to get your birthday started Babe?"

Brennan grinned. In the back of her mind, she felt like something might possibly not be right, but she needed this. She needed to have her head cleared of thoughts. She needed to celebrate her 16th birthday like she was supposed to.

Her lips were swollen from kissing, but she kissed him back still, as he seemed just as eager as he had been 30 minutes ago when they pulled up to the hill that the local teenagers called "Makeout Lookout." She had never really understood what this meant, but now she did.

Nathan's car wasn't as comfortable as she liked, and she preferred when they would kiss in the halls at school or on his bed, but there were worse things in life then having the stick shift prodding uncomfortably at her back

"Hold on one second."

She pulled back for a second, catching her breath. He was breathing heavily as he smiled at her.

Something about the way he was leering at her, his eyes not exactly focused was unnerving Brennan slightly. She knew he had a lot to drink, but she wasn't exactly sure how much. Hopefully not enough to impair his judgment.

Glancing down at the dashboard, she saw that it was now almost 11:45. She hadn't realized how late it had gotten. They had hit two parties already, each of them fully supplied with enough booze to sedate a small elephant.

Partying wasn't her scene, and she didn't exactly like drinking. It made her feel sick, and she knew that it impaired judgment. She didn't like not being able to make her own decisions.

Nathan on the other hand, had no problem downing shots and beer like it was his salvation. She had been wary to let him drive, but he had assured her that she was plenty safe with him.

Although she wasn't quite sure when she swallowed. She could taste the strong sourness of the alcohol he had consumed and as he pulled her back into the kiss, she felt her stomach lurch.

She let him kiss her for a while, but she immediately pulled away when she felt him slipping his hand dangerously high up her shirt. Her eyes were wide as she pulled down her shirt.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Babe, come on you promised that when you turned 16 we would."

"I never said that!" She tried to protest, but he grabbed her roughly, silencing her as he pressed his mouth against hers, sliding his hand once more up her shirt, his other hand reaching for the fly of her jeans.

Trying to push him off, he only tried harder, pushing her down on the seats, forcing himself on her, his fingers getting dangerously close to opening her zipper, as he almost crushed her chest with his body, making it hard to get air into her lungs.

Brennan's brain went into high alert, her heart pounding like a jackhammer in her chest, the adrenaline pummeling through her veins giving her the strength to push him off of her, breathing heavily as she gulped the air she so desperately needed.

He glared at her from across the car, running a hand through his hair. "What the fck was that?"

She tried to be level with him although she was scared to death. "You're drunk Nathan. I'm not sleeping with you."

He shook his head, and she definitely wasn't ready for his next words. "We're over then, get out."

"What? Nathan what are you talking about, we're not…you can't…" Her voice broke, as she tried to look at him. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

He shook his head angrily. "I should have listened to everyone…they said not to get involved with the foster kid. That you had problems. You do." She looked at him, trying not to let her blue eyes fill with the tears, he however, didn't seem to have any sympathy.

"Did you hear me? Get your ass out of my car!" His voice was vicious, tearing her heart to pieces.

"Where am I supposed to go?"

"The hell if I care…now get out."

Brennan wiped her eyes so she wouldn't cry anymore. He didn't deserve to see that. She pulled open the door, and slammed it with such a vengeance, that the entire body of the beat up pick-up shook.

"I hate you!"

"Good, because we're done." He turned on the engine of the truck; the sound of it revving up made something inside of her break. It was what she had heard when her parents left.

Her voice broke as she screamed at him. "Get out of here! Leave!" She kicked the side of the truck as it pulled out of the small dirt parking lot, the dust clouding around her face. "I hate you! I hate you…"

She yelled as loud as she could even after he was long gone from ear shot, her lungs feeling like they were ripping out of her chest. The shouts turned to screams. She screamed for her parents and her brothers and Nathan. She screamed for the world, and what a cruel place it was turning out to be. She screamed for herself, knowing that her life was never going to be normal. She screamed and screamed until her body shook and hot tears poured down her face. And as fast as the screams had pierced the warm night air, it was silent.

The only thing she could hear was the rushing of cars as they drove by, and the hooting of the owls in the trees above her. She hated the owls. She wanted to throw something at them.

Wiping the tears off her face, she collected herself, running her hands along her bare arms, trying to figure out a way she was going to get back to the Follett's. She was cold even though it was nearly 70 degrees out. It was an easy 10 miles back to the house, and she wasn't going to call them. Maybe she could hitchhike.

She remembered there was a gas station about a half a mile up the road, and she started off to walk to it, her Converse getting dusty as they scraped against the dirt road. At least the names on the bottom were written with permanent marker. They wouldn't be erased. None of it would.

Sitting on the curb at the gas station, Brennan ran a hand over her hair, before yanking the hood of her sweatshirt over her tangled locks, hunching over to make herself even more inconspicuous. The gas station was almost deserted, except for the infrequent family or group of teenagers who stopped by to fill their trailers or luxury sports cars.

She had pulled the hood even farther over her face when a group of kids she knew from her school passed by for gas. She hated that particular group. The way they watched her in the halls, snickering maliciously about her clothes, and the amount of families she'd gone through in the last few months. She wanted to throw paint over their perfectly quaffed golden blonde hair, preppy pink t-shirts and annoyingly perfect pressed jeans. They were everything that she wasn't, and everything she had never wanted to be. It was an irrational kind of hate, but she hated them all the same.

She had figured out that hating people was a lot easier then being hurt by them. If only she knew…

For the past half an hour she'd been sitting on the curb, her face concealed with the masses of black hair, trying to figure out how to get back to the Follett's. She wasn't going to call them, the fear of what Aaron Follett's wrath would be, terrified her enough to sleep at a gas station for the night. She knew he would most likely bang her face into the nearest solid object, a proposition which wasn't exactly comforting.

The walk was too far. Maybe if it had been daylight, but not at night. Not when she was a young girl who would be an easy target for someone up to no good. She wasn't that stupid, and definitely not that naive. She knew how the world worked. If someone saw something they could use for their own gain, they wouldn't pass up the opportunity.

As a young women stopped for gas and to use the restroom, the proposition of stealing the car had been tempting, but Brennan neither had her license or was a criminal, and she had watched as the women drove off, leaving her in the dust.

Her only option was to hitch hike with someone, and she figured that she should make herself look a little less threatening if she was going to have some good-natured family drive her home.

She pulled the hood again over her head. She would stay threatening for a little while longer. Threatening was safe.

Looking up at the fluorescent lights of the gas station, she saw that a boy was walking across the parking lot towards her. The way he walked was familiar. It was confident. She didn't like it already.

As he got closer, she got a better look at him. She'd never seen him before in her life, but he was cute. Tall, probably about 17 or 18. Close cropped dark hair, broad shoulders, dark eyes that seemed to be drinking her in from even 20 feet away.

She pretended not to see him as he stood in front of her, staring at her curiously.

"Excuse me? Miss? Are you ok?"

She couldn't ignore him anymore; he was talking directly to her. She looked up at him, and resisted not smiling. He was **very** cute, but she didn't have any idea what he wanted with her. His friends had probably dared him to go and harass the girl in black sitting on the sidewalk.

She didn't need that, someone else pretending they cared. She looked directly into his eyes, knowing that hers were red and bloodshot. "Screw off."

He wasn't going to be put off that easily, she could tell. Right now she didn't want anyone close to her.

"That was a little harsh."

"Fine, can you go away? _Please?_" Her words were cold, and she almost regretted them. Almost.

He pulled himself down so that he was sitting next to her on the curb. He flashed her a smile that made her stomach jump even though she tried to refuse the instant attraction.

"Listen I don't know you, and you don't know me. I'm not trying to harass you, but you seem upset. I should know," He paused looking at her curiously. She held his gaze, not afraid to do so.

"Do you need a ride somewhere? I don't think it's safe for a pretty girl to be all alone in the middle of the night. You know bobcats and bears. Vicious creatures."

He laughed at his own joke, and she smiled weakly, despite her resolve to hate him. He was sort of hard to hate.

_I don't even know him._

She heard the compliment, and took it, knowing that she didn't really look pretty. Her eyes were red and puffy; the black makeup was probably around her eyes like rings, contrasting loudly against her ghostly white skin. She also heard the offer for a ride.

As their eyes locked, she couldn't help but feel like he was reading her. Nobody ever took the time to even think about what she was feeling. She never let them either. She hated being read like an open book, having her feelings on the outside. It was too easy to get hurt that way. Way too easy.

"No offense or anything, but I'm really not in the mood to talk. So I'd rather you just go away."

He didn't move, instead he just kept looking at her. "Tough night?"

She smirked at the irony of it. It was her sixteenth birthdays. Didn't people call your 16th birthday, sweet sixteen? This was definitely not sweet. None of it was.

"You could say that. It's my birthday."

She wanted to kick herself. Why was she still talking to him, and even more, why had she just shared such a personal detail with a stranger who probably didn't even give a crap?

Brennan watched a look of pain crossed his face, and then disappeared quickly. Something was different about him. He had genuinely looked sad for her. No one ever had looked that sad. Not Nathan, not her any of her foster families. It was unnerving.

Running a hand through his hair quickly, he looked back up at her. "God, I'm sorry."

"It's fine. You don't need to be sorry for me. You don't even know me." She didn't want his pity or his sympathy. Nobody knew what it was like as much as they liked to say they did.

"I don't know you, but I'm sorry that you have to be alone on your birthday. Nobody should have that."

She shrugged, pretending that she wasn't already deeply damaged. "You can't always get what you want."

"You could."

Shaking her head, she looked down. "No. Some people don't get what they want. I'm one of them. It's inevitability. It doesn't matter anymore."

She was surprised when he tilted her chin to face him, his fingers remaining touching her face lightly making her shiver involuntarily.

"Maybe that's true. It doesn't have to be true tonight. Let me give you a ride, because I'm sure as hell not going to leave you here."

All she heard was that he wouldn't leave her. She wasn't sure what to believe anymore. Turning her head away from him, she sighed, and she could feel his eyes still on her.

She heard one of his friends call to him from a beat up SUV that was parked at one of the gas stations.

"Seel! Man, my mom is going to grill me if she finds out I've broken curfew again. We gotta go!"

He waved them off, "Yeah hold on a second!"

She turned to face him again, and he couldn't help but notice how he makeup smudged blue eyes seemed to be the exact shad of the sky.

"Come with me. Please."

"But your friends…"

He scoffed lightly. "They don't really care whether they get caught breaking curfew; they're just too drunk to drive so I'm their ride. You can't sleep here, and I'm sure someone's waiting for you. Your parents are probably ready to kill themselves."

Her stomach lurched uncomfortably. The thought of them made her feel sick. No one was worried about her. She could spend the night at the gas station, and probably wouldn't be recognized to be missing until Monday rolled around and she wasn't at school.

"Yeah. Yeah ok. You can give me a ride. But don't ask me my name. Or anything else."

He shrugged, smiling, pulling himself off the curb, and then extending his hand to her.

"Fine by me."

She took his hand reluctantly, and he pulled her off the curb, walking a couple strides in front of her. It was like he knew that she didn't want to get attached. This guy was either psychic or a people reader. She didn't believe in either.

She trailed slowly behind, but before they reached the car filled with loud drunk teenage boys, she covered his steps, grabbing his arm to turn him around.

He looked at her curiously, but didn't say anything.

She bit her lip, and then looked up at him. "I just wanted to say thanks. Nobody has ever…I mean they don't…just… thank you."

He nodded, smiling widely at her with that smile. She imagined he got whatever he wanted. She never got that. They were complete opposites, but as she looked at him, she finally felt like she had met someone who wasn't going to leave.

For 10 minutes, she hadn't felt the alone. The hole in her heart had been filled by a boy who seemed to understand her completely. She would never see him again after tonight, but it seemed like that was enough. Enough that he had made her 16th a little sweeter.

People meet for a reason.


End file.
